Dark Chocolate
by Gothika Faerie
Summary: Frollo and Esmeralda...a forbidden couple...a dark couple...an addictive couple... Erotic, in many genres. Enjoy!
1. Dangerous Games

Title: Dangerous Games

Summary: They discovered they had one thing in common at least; they both loved games; cat-and-mouse games. They both also loved to _win_. Erotic smut-filled drabbles of little 'games' Frollo and Esmeralda seem to just adore. Frollo/Esmeralda

Genre: Romance/Humor

Rated: M for lemon, kinky themes (purr) and language

A/N: Yes, it's me resurrected from the dead. I know it's been ages since I wrote something or continued one of my stories. This is a little fun thing I was hoping to write and I thank Christine J for her lovely story and constant encouragement that inspired me to write this.

Cat and Mouse

_He's not here, he's not here, _Esmeralda reassured herself repeatedly in her head as she flitted stealthily through the eerily silent palace halls. Her footsteps were light, nearly inaudible as they padded on the marble floors. Her rambunctious curls whipped around wildly as she swung her left and right, checking her surroundings. Ensuring no one, especially a _certain someone_ was anywhere nearby to _attack_ her. Her green eyes narrowed. The corridors didn't have any of the usual hustle-bustle of servants going in and out, cleaning rooms or guards patrolling the area. It was dead quiet. _Too quiet._

Never a good sign.

Moving cautiously, relieved that each light step she took did not echo through the corridor. She sent up a little prayer of thanks to the Heavens for her graceful dancer feet. She took off in a silent limber glide, darting down the hallways. A quick little mouse. A mouse that hoped to return safely to its mouse hole before encountering its eternal foe and predator; the cat. Esmeralda groaned, she hoped her predator and foe was nowhere in this section of the palace. This particular cat was sly, sneaky and calculatingly intelligent. The mouse would need to prick up its ears, work its brain and rely on its deeply rooted evading instincts to escape this cat.

She continued to scurry through the halls until her ears detected a distinct laugh.

A thundering, sinister baritone of a laugh.

The gypsy stiffened. Her head turned so quickly left and right to find the owner of that distinguished devious chuckle, she nearly gave herself whiplash. Her eyes widened. The corridors, no matter how hard she squinted, were completely empty. Why, the only activity that permeated the spacious hallways were the dust particles swaying in the air and the gypsy breathing erratically, hoping to calm the nearly quaking palpitation of her heart.

_That laugh can't just come out of thin air. _Esmeralda reasoned. However, given the circumstances, it was as if that statement was true. She pressed herself, back first, flat against the wall. Clopin, her educator in the many ways to evade predators, told her the most foolproof and only method one uses when one's unarmed and has no idea where your predator is, was to keep as close as one possibly can to the walls. Esmeralda stuck to that idea. She continued to inch sideways, her back glued to the wall, her ears kept open all the while.

Her sharp vision scanned the left side of the hallway and the doors the hallway opened to. All of them were vacant and untouched. Strange. Where could her predator be now? So engrossed she was in looking left, right and in front of her, Esmeralda forgot to guard her most vulnerable point; what was behind her. The minute she felt her back pressed up the solid dark polished wood of a door, it opened and immediately she felt two strong, mighty hands pull her into a room before slamming said door shut!

The gypsy instinctively squealed in frightened shock until a large, smooth hand clamped over her mouth tightly. Another hand had twisted her arm back and kept her from struggling free. She was caught! The mouse was now in the cat's cunning claws. Her fate really depended on whether or not the cat was in a merciful mood today.

"Hmm, you evaded me for approximately ten minutes. Pity, I expected more from a crafty little witch like you," That same chilling, resonant baritone purred in her ear in mock-disappointment. Esmeralda's eyes narrowed in irritation. She tossed her head to shake off her captor's hand off her mouth.

"Don't mock me. You didn't play fair," She vainly struggled in her captor's vise-like grip. She managed to turn her head slightly to glare at him through her raging emerald eyes. "You were supposed to _chase_ me, not sit on your idle little rear and wait for me to walk into your trap. Now I demand you let me go!" She writhed and twisted. It was no use; the cat had successfully pinned the mouse into submission. Her captor chuckled sinisterly with a touch of triumph at her defiant struggling. He bent down to bury his aquiline into the dense aromatic black forest, which was the gypsy's hair and inhaled deeply, sighing blissfully.

"I can infer someone's been thinking about my rear all day, hasn't she?" That remark being murmured into her hair sent blood rushing hotly into the gypsy's ears and cheeks. "And it's not called waiting idly for you to stumble into my trap, it's called waiting in the most appropriate place your prey might approach so one can," He breathed the next word so huskily, so breathily, the gypsy felt her knees weaken. "_pounce_ on her." Esmeralda inhaled deeply as to not go completely limp in her predator's hands. His voice never failed to have such an effect on her ever since it first affected her in this manner. Well, here she was, trapped and held hostage.

That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself now, could she?

A bedeviling smile crossed her once indignant features as she arched backwards, pressing her round, pert backside into the crotch of his robe. This certainly got his attention. He yanked his face out of her hair and groaned at the intimate contact, pleasantly dumbstruck by her sudden wanton behavior. Still smirking evilly, the gypsy proceeded to gyrate her hips, intentionally grinding her perky behind into her captor's crotch. Her smirk grew victorious at feeling her predator react, particularly _down there. _A very prominent stiffening was now pressing up painfully hard against her writhing rear end.

Her captor, frustrated with these teasing actions and the havoc they were wreaking on his most delicate area, slid his hands down onto her hips and gripping them tightly, held her securely to his burgeoning crotch. He began to match her rhythmic grinding, rubbing the whole of his erection against the line that parted her juicy globes. He raggedly growled into her ear. "Harlot," He practically spat, grinding her harder. "You cannot get enough of this, can you?" The combination of his gruff, demanding voice against her ear and his stern grinding heightened the gypsy's naughty side. And it also _greatly _aroused her.

"Speak for yourself," She purred, enjoying how his stiff heat was digging so nicely into the soft curve of her backside. Her tone of voice took on a mocking air. "You're the dirty old man whom can't keep his hands-or crotch-off of me every night." Her captor visibly bristled and, growling like a feral wolf, he swept her up into his arms and after shoving her down hard on the solitary king-sized bed in the room, clambered over to pin her. Esmeralda yelped at the pain from being handled so roughly but at the same time, she whimpered in delight, feeling a numbing heat spread through her body. Her captor snickered darkly at her breathless appearance before proceeding to lick a long, sensuous trail up her sensitive neck. He nibbled lightly on her tender earlobe while purring. "My, my, you have a bold little mouth for someone whom has lost today's game. The penalty must be paid doubly harder then."

Esmeralda quivered in excitement. However, a tinge of fear traveled down her spine. As much as she adored her penalties-_well, penalties her captor gave_- she often feared them as well. Her captor had a sadistic streak within him that never failed to make her want to scurry into a corner and hide from him. Yet, his torturous penalties were now the highlights of her capture. Did that make her a masochist?

_Maybe._

Surprising her, her captor got off her so he could salvage a few objects. She found this the perfect chance to slip away but he soon whipped around to keep her pinned with one of his most infamous, stone withering glares. She gulped at it and obediently remained lying on the bed. "Good girl." Her captor remarked, smugly watching her nearly cowering on the sheets. After a few more minutes, the gypsy's predator came forth, carrying scarves of a different vibrant hue. She raised an eyebrow; what did these common everyday handkerchiefs have to do with her penalty?

Her answer was soon granted.

The man loomed over her, ensuring she did not move a muscle with his commanding granite eyes before he fastened her wrists and ankles securely to each of the bedposts using the scarves. The gypsy's pupils dilated. Well, this certainly wasn't something she had expected!

"Why, you animal! This is undignified!" She protested, slithering and struggling, naively hoping the binds would break. Unfortunately, her captor had tied her down with such skillful knots that her efforts were in vain. He stood back a little, admiring his handiwork and laughing mockingly, enjoying her feeble attempts in releasing herself. He finally took pity on her and placed a calming hand on her arm before lowering his head to breathe hotly into her ear. "Now, now, my beautiful captive, let's not give ourselves an injury while trying helplessly to break free. You lost the game my dear…and must suffer the penalty. Believe me; I…and _you_ will enjoy this." This silenced the gypsy but it did not wipe the scowl off her face. As much as she relished these penalties, she was not the type of woman whom enjoyed being tied down.

Her captor examined her with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. A peach blush had worked its way into her bronze cheeks due to her energy exerted from her struggling. Her skin was glistening from her efforts. A solitary bead of sweat trailing its way into her prominent cleavage made his tongue run unconsciously along his bottom lip. Shocking her, he bent down to lap up the salty trail hungrily. Esmeralda inhaled sharply. The gypsy whimpered. If this was the first form of punishment he had for her, she honestly saw no reason to complain.

Still, it hurt her pride to have him win this game, especially since it was a very simple game of cat-and-mouse. Esmeralda was a woman whom _hated _to lose. Oh, she couldn't wait till their next challenge when _he _lost. Then, she'd give him what for!

As for now, her captor had finished roving over his ravishing captive and was ready to administer the perfect penalty to her! A lecherous smirk had crossed over his face and Esmeralda watched in engrossed horror as her captor made quick work in parting his velvet robe with his spidery fingers, letting it fall onto the floor before pulling down his black leggings to reveal the stiff, throbbing towering length of his root. The gypsy's green eyes widened. What did her predator's depraved mind have in store for her this time?

"Now, darling, let's see if that bold little mouth of yours can be put to good use. Besides, I think it's time we tried something new," The prospect of a new form of torture sent a shiver of terror through the gypsy but also one of growing anticipation as well. She feared his constant need to dominate her but at the same time, she lived for it. Watching as he clambered atop the bed, slithering towards her vulnerable frame, seeing every taut and sinewy muscle underneath his moonlight skin flex and contract as he moved, Esmeralda could already feel the nagging wetness between her thighs intensify.

He lifted up her chin with his fingers and melded his dark lips passionately over his prey's juicy red ones. His tongue tempted her mouth open. Soon, their nimble oral appendages were locked in a fierce, fiery tango. The gypsy felt her whole body go limp at his skillful ministrations and nearly whimpered with protest, her eyes closed from the intensity when her captor pulled away, ensuring to nibble on her bottom lip before leaving her completely bereft.

When she finally opened her eyes, she nearly squealed in shock. Her captor's burgeoning manhood was looming above her face, his weeping, red tip precariously targeted above her succulent red lips. Instinctively, she attempted to squirm away, nearly forgetting she was fastened tightly to the bed frame. As if this wasn't shock enough, she soon grew conscious to the fact that there was a wet, warm wriggling sensation between her inner thighs. Her gaze followed the length of her captor's lean frame until she noticed a tousled, silver head between her legs. She gasped as the wriggling sensation grew more pronounced.

His lips were scorching as they kissed her hot, sensitive vaginal lips, so juicy and slippery. She whimpered, her lower half trying with all its might to grind closer against them. His tongue was darting out, striking unpredictably; a treacherous cobra as it ran itself its nimble tip all over the very tip of her pulsating bud. Esmeralda moaned out through gritted teeth as sparks of euphoria shot up her frame. Her captor smirked at this and, after giving her a very possessive kiss on her aching bundle of nerves, he reared up a little on his hands to look at her flushed, panting face. "Now, now my darling, it isn't fair that I'm doing all the work here," He chuckled darkly, lowering his nether region onto her mouth. "Open that beautiful mouth of yours right now…and get to work."

Esmeralda blinked anxiously at seeing his thick root so close in proximity with her mouth. She gulped. She was so hungry; practically ravenous for him. It had been a while since they had engaged in their many _games_. She was going to get as much as she could out of it, even if she had lost. She gently kissed the sensitive tip before she engulfed it in her warm mouth, swirling her tongue around his thickness. She licked his pre-cum obnoxiously like a starving kitten finally offered some cream for sustenance. Her own tongue play yielded pleasant results. Her captor reciprocated wholeheartedly with his own slithering tongue, prodding into her sticky slit and pressing it against her pulsating cherry.

If some unfortunate maid were to burst in and observe her master in such a compromising position with his captive, she would have fainted on the spot. Or possibly sneak back out of the bedchamber and masturbate alone on her pristine sheets, imagining herself to be her master's captive. For, Esmeralda could not deny, this was beyond amazing. She was writhing within her binds, sucking off her captor's engorged member desperately and wishing that right now, said member was not lodged in her mouth but in other, _more yearning _areas.

Cruelly, her captor withdrew completely away from her, lifting his silver head out from the depths of her sacred garden and pulling his cock out of her now filthy mouth. Esmeralda whined, grumbling at him for being such a horrible tease. The predator spun to face her, crawling up over her heaving, perspiring frame. His lecherous eyes flitted down to her heaving bosom that was barely held in by the skimpy lace trimmed neckline of her sheer peach chemise. His slender fingers cupped on of them, eliciting a longing whimper from the bound gypsy.

"What a naughty witch you are. So deliciously well-endowed yet you go prance around this palace in nothing more but a flimsy scrap of lace," With that, he gripped the dainty neckline in his grasping fingers and tore the whole nightgown off. Esmeralda shrieked in anger. That had been one of her favorites! "There, there darling. There's no need to kick up a fuss over this like some ill-bred brat," He leaned in to purr into her ear. "I'll buy you a hundred more designer nightgowns like these if you allow me to rip each and every one of them off your ravishing frame." This silenced her childish annoyance but she still scowled at him. She had coveted that peach chemise; it was what he gave her after she had won their last _game_.

He flung the tattered silk to the ground; he practically treated it like a filthy dishrag. After doing so, his attention was fully focused on his captor's body, or more accurately her naked, perfect breasts. They were juicily round and perky, fitting so appropriately in his large hands. The nipples were taut and sharp like rosy spikes. He licked her nectar, which he had earned during his oral session, off his lips and immediately bent down to tease the very sensitive tip of one of the erect buds. The gypsy inhaled sharply and arched upwards, coaxing him to take in more in his mouth.

The captor smiled at her response before continually flicking his tongue against her aching nipple before blowing hot air against it. Such a sensation sent flames coursing through her and awakening a demon within the gypsy's nether region. She moaned softly as the pleasant sticky soreness between her thighs deepened. Her captor chuckled at her reaction and continued to tease and torment her sharp buds, relishing the husky moans of his captive. He slid another hand up to cup her other heaving mound and rub her hard nipple in between his thumb and index finger. Esmeralda whimpered pitifully, arching as high as her bound wrists would allow her to rub her chest against his mouth. He raked his teeth across her rosebud, timing it accurately with pinching the other one hard. The gypsy was internally combusting. She lifted up her lower region to grind her sopping wet cavern against his muscular inner thigh.

"Ok, you've had your fun punishing me, you scoundrel. Now, get to business...or should I say _pleasure_?" Emboldened by her defiant request, especially from her supposedly submissive position, Esmeralda found it easy to purr out the last word. All the while, she continued to grind and rub her frustrated wet core against the firm muscles of his inner thigh and sighed in relief at the temporary pleasure she could get. Her captor seemed enraptured as well for he threw his head back and growled at the feel of her juicy wetness. His cock twitched, probably imagining hammering itself inside of her. However, thankfully, the blood that hadn't gone south to awaken his inner demon was still keeping his brain active. Smirking devilishly, her captor pushed his knee against her thigh before pressing the tip of his member against the opening of her slippery pussy.

He nearly withered with pleasure at feeling her heated velvety walls engulf the very tip of him. She was _excruciatingly _wet. Esmeralda noticed the blissful look on his face and her smile took on a Cheshire cat grin.

"Come on, Claude, I'm frustrated and you're horny. Just fuck me and get it over with." She decided to conveniently leave out _how_ frustrated she was. Her weeping inside was itching dreadfully and only his cock could dole out the proper relief. Her captor looked up, taking in her challenging smirk and stiffened. Oh no! She was not working this to her advantage!

Feeling especially sadistic tonight, he then seized his thick member within his spindly fingers and guided to press up against his captive's sore, tiny pink nub. Esmeralda nearly screeched in euphoria; that had felt so good, it would almost be considered criminal. Smirking, her captor then began to stroke the barest edges of her opening with the tip of his massive appendage, skimming over her tortured bundle of nerves and massaging the beginnings of her silken wet walls. The gypsy felt all her blood rush downwards and engorge the entirety of her pink cavern, making her inner walls unbearably red and sopping wet. She was panting, writhing on the bed like a trapped, frustrated python.

She wanted more.

She _needed_ more.

"Damn it, Claude," She bit out between desperate, lustful moans, trying her damndest to grind her aching slit against his engorged tip. Try as she might however, she could not get him to penetrate her at all. Whether she would be rid of this tormenting frustration was all up to him. Damn him for not only winning this blasted game but also for having the upper hand in this situation! Her conniving captor snickered at how desperate she was getting and, sliding his fingers down to diddle on her clit, he leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"Now darling, all this can be avoided and I will send you to the depths of ecstasy if you do one simple thing," He licked along the shell of her ear. Esmeralda whimpered and yipped like a needy puppy. "Beg. Beg me to take you like the frenzied harlot you are. Beg me and I shall show you the night of your life." Her green eyes widened incredulously.

She, Esmeralda, the gypsy dancer with a reputation for being a self-respecting, independent woman and would _never_ worship the ground a man walked on, particularly _this _man and he had the audacity to order her to _beg_?

Who did he think she was? His dog that he was going to reward with a few leftover scraps? She had never begged a man before and she wasn't going to start now. She had far too much dignity. Her eyes flashed defiantly and she bit out a bitter 'No.' Her captor was badly taken aback by her defensive reply but soon chuckled darkly. With a most inhuman cool air about him, the man clambered off the bed and went to sit on a chair facing his tied up captive whom was shocked at this turn of events. Why that horrid bastard! How dare he just stop everything and leave her like this?

He could not restrain a fiendish laugh at watching her rant and rave over his arrogant, unfair mistreatment. Goodness, she looked even more ravishing in her rage. Her bronze cheeks were flushed and her voluminous, untamable curls were furiously tossed about. It all gave her the appearance of a fiery Amazon warrior princess and it did nothing more or less than arouse him further. As much as he would've liked to fuck the living daylights out of such a gorgeous captive, he had his pride after all. The last thing he wanted was to be her slave, her puppy dog that she could tame simply with a treat. She lost the game after all and, after turning away his merciful proposition, she could just lie there and face the consequences.

"Tsk, tsk, such unlawful words flying out of that bold mouth! Now, remember my dear, you brought this on yourself. You can save us both the trouble if you simply beg for me like the good little witch you are," He slyly winked at her to punctuate his speech before, with the wish to torture her further, wrapped his fingers around his burgeoning member and began to stroke up and down it. Esmeralda's eyes bulged at the sight. He was blatantly mocking her! She watched, mesmerized, as his spindly fingers roamed up and down on his impressive length, his fist pumping skillfully. She bit her lip, feeling her wetness trickle out at the very arousing sight. Oh, she so wanted to be that blasted hand of his. But, she was _not _going to beg for it.

Still, she would be lying if she denied that this whole shameless display of self-pleasure was driving her insane. Her mind was soon overwhelmed by sinful imagery of that deliciously thick cock slamming hard into her depths, stretching her tight pussy to its limits. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his hand motions. The way he gripped his cock and slid his fist down it; she imagined her pussy mimicking those motions.

She was at the brink of her abyss. Her captor was pushing her over the edge.

That disgustingly sexy self-satisfied smirk of his. Those ghastly beautiful slender hands all over his horrible burgeoning cock.

_It was maddening!_

"Alright!" She finally conceded, practically spitting the word out as thought it was a revolting taste in her mouth. Her eyes fell down; she didn't want to look at the look of ultimate triumph spread across his face. "P…p…_please_."

"Please what?" Her captor smirked smugly, satisfied at finally getting his stubborn little filly to break down. Esmeralda shot daggers at him with her vengeful gaze. Ooh, if she wasn't tied up right now, she'd go over there and claw his face off.

"Please… _m…m…master_," She struggled to get the words out. There, her dignity was compromised. He'd better make this all worth it. Her captor smugly got up and clambered back up onto the bed, adjusting himself so he could mount her swiftly. "That's a good girl…but I want you to beg me specifically. _What_ exactly do you want me to do?"

Esmeralda was teetering on the verge of screaming her head off. This man was so bloody arrogant, full of himself, cocky…but he's the only one right now that could bring away from the brink of insanity. So, swallowing more of her immense pride, she snapped. "Please…shut your big fat mouth right now and fuck me! Please shove that fucking cock inside of me now! I can't take it anymore!"

Her captor growled, satisfied with her colorful begging and proceeded to fulfill her request. He lifted up her thighs as high as her bounds could allow before spreading them open to reveal her drenched cunt. Her thighs were coated with her nectar and he was not going to waste any more time. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself before slamming the whole ribbed length of his cock as hard as he could muster inside of her aching cunt.

It was _ecstasy_ for both parties. Esmeralda threw her head back before a guttural scream of pleasure was torn from the bowels of her vocal chords. Her body was set in raging flames as she felt her captor rock in and out of her mercilessly, stretching her long neglected pussy. Finally, she was feeling that euphoria that she had longed for ever since her punishment started. Her captor was feeling just as intensely pleasured as his captive; her hot and slippery walls felt heavenly around his throbbing hard cock. She was also tantalizingly tight and every thrust he took deeply within her caused and intensified that hot friction between their rubbing genitals. He growled and, gripping her shoulders, adjusted their angle so he could press his large manhood against all her aching spots. Esmeralda bit into his shoulder, whimpering helplessly. He was scratching all her right itches.

"Ugh, harder," She moaned ecstatically, clenching her thighs as tightly around his waist. She bucked her hips in order to match his rough, rhythmic thrusts. Her captor chuckled menacingly before quickening his drives, panting heavily and groaning at feeling her soaking wet labia tightening around his thick root. Esmeralda moaned, wanting so badly to weave her hands into his now messily tousled silver hair as she bucked back at him with equal force. Her silken sticky cavern came closing down on his ribbed length and she gasped out a broken version of his name as her nectar flowed out in droves. Flushed by her delicious orgasm, she readied herself as her captor grew violent.

He leaned in, nibbling on the hot erogenous spot on her neck, pressing his hard chest against her precious milk load and rosy nipples, shoving more and more of his hungry cock inside of her pretty pink folds. Esmeralda grunted, lifting her hips, giving him more leverage as he massaged the whole of her sopping inside with his length, rubbing against all sore spots and sensational angles, bringing her again and again to euphoria.

"Harder!" She demanded, nearly giving herself a concussion when she threw her head back against the headboard. Her captor growled like the predator he was and gripping the sheets on either side of her head, he reared up and slammed into her even harder than ever imaginable. Esmeralda shamelessly let loose her animalistic screams of passion as his rutting hips banged against hers until the rough contact was almost audible. She watched as her predator tossed his head back, his silver hair flying and perspiration glistening from his efforts, as he howled his desperate pleasure to the heavens. He was a beast. A magnificent beast. Everything felt hellishly good. It _must've_ been sinful to get this much pleasure in one night. But it wasn't enough, Esmeralda needed more.

"Harder, you scum!" She shrieked shamelessly, yearning so badly to wrap her legs around him but remembering she was tied down securely at the ankles.

"Insatiable harlot!" He countered, his thrusts now powerful enough to rock the bed along with them. She could already hear the headboard behind her banging and slamming against the wall behind it. Esmeralda bawled in gratification, clenching tightly around him even though he was still determinedly driving his ravenous cock inside of her, releasing more droves of her hot white cream. She was withering, writhing and slithering beneath him, enjoying how his juicy cock was wreaking havoc on every nerve in her shy place. She was on overload.

He knew he was approaching his threshold. He felt that familiar tightening in his groin that always indicated he couldn't take it any further. Mustering all his willpower, he held out long enough to shove his full ribbed length into her sopping pussy and search through her pubic curls to pinch her engorged clit hard.

She came undone.

Yanking on all her restraints, Esmeralda moaned out his name huskily and hoarsely; most of her orgasmic screams had taken its toll on her overworked voice box. Her eyes popped open at feeling her dripping wet slit clench onto her captor's juicy root like a vise. It was painful yet felt so damnably good! Again, another electrifying orgasm seized her, causing her release a final flood of her creamy nectar. Her captor bit his bottom lip savagely, growling in a most animalistic fashion as he felt his captive's silken cum trickle and engulf his cock before spurting out his own hot juices, filling her up to the brim.

Lethargic and more than completely satisfied, Esmeralda slumped downwards onto the mattress, relishing the pool of their combined body fluids she was swimming in. Her captor, whom had collapsed atop her, awoke unsteadily long enough to release her from her constricting bonds. Dizzily, she massaged her sore ankles and wrists, coaxing her blood to flow normally. Her captor expected a rattling diatribe of complaints about his unfairness in leaving her untied for hours but all she did was curl up submissively into his embrace on the bed.

He smirked; what a fun night this has been!

"I still don't love you…and you cheated," She grumbled tiredly, almost drifting off to sleep. Frollo chuckled at her rueful humor before pulling the soaked blankets over them and kissing her temple.

"Now, now darling, you know I never cheat. Besides, you just might win our next little game. I don't hope so…but perhaps, you just might. Goodnight, _mon amour_."

Esmeralda smirked after watching her husband close his eyes and start snoring peacefully.

_Don't be so complacent, my dear husband. Who knows? Maybe next time, I'll be the one tying you to the bed. _

A/N: Yes, yes, I know it's longwinded. But I love long sentences and vivid words. So, yeah, enjoy! Oh and read and review, please!


	2. Secret Heart

A/N: Oh gosh, I haven't updated since the dawn of time. This story is already starting to get cobweb-infested. Unfortunately, school is bearing down hard on me, piling on burden after burden and my creativity levels have been severely shot. However, I've finally decided to make a comeback today. So, enjoy the Fresme smut! I don't own the song 'Monster'. All rights go to Lady Gaga.

Secret Heart

It wasn't fair. He never played fair. She was always the witch, the devil woman, the harlot, and the whore. Everybody looked down their haughty little noses when they set their prejudiced, judgmental beady eyes on her. They all condemned her; she wasn't oblivious. Her keen hearing could always pick up their spiteful banter whenever the judge escorted to her to all those tiresome balls his colleagues held.

_Humph! Its no wonder the judge was totally bewitched. Look at her, prancing around with such a low neckline!_

_And her eyes! No, she can't possibly be human. Rumor has it; she's actually some gypsy wench. Who knows? She might really be a witch. _

_I don't doubt that. Gypsies are nothing but trouble. The poor minister; that evil harlot most probably wormed her vile way into his heart and mind using her sinful magic. _

_Yes, too bad her devil witchery compromised his common sense. Huh! Lucky for her, he mercifully decided to take her under his wing to show down the true road of Christianity. But I must say, it's not like she deserves it._

_Do you know about the Festival of Fools? That was when she showed up and sunk those fiendish claws of hers into him._

_No! Do tell!_

Esmeralda's heart compressed into a solid, icy lump of granite. These socialites must've been in dire need for common sense. She wondered if all their brains were stuffed into their massive bosoms or if the asphyxiating scents of their perfumes had turned them into mush. They must've been stupid; what woman couldn't hear what they were buzzing about? Or unable to feel their mocking glares? The gypsy kept her head bowed, her gaze fixed to the floor. She squeezed her husband's hand tightly.

He whipped around to glare at her; apparently this was neither the time nor the place for any drama. Her eyes burrowed into his in a sorrowful gaze. She tried telepathically telling him she wanted to leave. To escape the disdainful sneers, the taunting gossip, the forged good nature of the guests and all the gaping eyes of curiosity so that she could return to the newfound sanctuary that was the, ironically, the Palace of Justice. To her dismay, he just scoffed and led further into the ballroom, chiding her for her immaturity. Esmeralda bit her lower lip hard so as to suppress any defiant backtalk.

It just wasn't fair.

Everyone crowed his or her sincerest sympathies towards the judge. Poor him; to be saddled with such a low-class, crass harlot. A lady of the night. A devil woman. But did anyone consider her feelings? Did anyone inquire about her own conflicted emotions, ever changing like the rising and setting of the sun? No. All the officials, aristocrats, noblemen only cared about how the minister was handling this sticky situation. They only wanted to know how he tamed the wild filly. How he had trained her to be submissive and reserved.

In their eyes, he was the victim. Apparently, her 'sorcery', her 'hellish beauty' and her 'demonic dancing' had swayed him. Swayed him from God's proper path. He had been austere, ruthless and above all, resistant to any woman's charm. Then she came along and he was destroyed. To them, her love had killed _him_. Oh, how wrong they would feel if they had known the deep, dark, poisoned recesses of her heart.

_He ate my heart, he a-a-ate my heart,_

_(You little monster),_

_He ate my heart, he a-a-ate my heart out,_

_(You amaze me)_

_He ate my heart, he a-a-ate my heart,_

_He ate my heart, he a-a-ate my heart,_

If her so-called hellishly tempting beauty and dance had lured the judge into a world of sin, then she may as well be in the same boat. Oh yes, she had been swayed too. Much more times than many people can guess. By_ him_. In fact, one could say he injected her with a venom. An addictive one but one that killed swiftly, painfully. Frollo may have been disturbingly attracted to her after her smoldering dance at the festival but honestly, cross her heart on a thousand Bibles, Esmeralda's feeling had been set in stone long before that day. No one knew about this. Not the gypsies. Not Quasimodo. Not Phoebus. Not even Clopin, her foster brother whom she shared all her feelings with. No one knew. Except the Lord whom was the only witness to her tormented heart.

Her feelings towards the cold, ruthless tyrant of a minister had always been turbulent. From that fateful day, when his cruel-_yet strangely exciting_-obsidian eyes bored into hers when they first met, Esmeralda felt a tingling heat flush through her. It was a pleasant heat; the sort of adrenaline you feel when you accidentally scald your hand but a burn that you wanted to feel again and again. From that moment on, the addiction began.

She had only been a nubile waif of sixteen. Already hitting puberty, the gypsy girl was far from naïve as any of the gypsy woman believed. She was already bruised with her rambunctious tangled curls and her body had blossomed into an exquisite hourglass. Clopin joked regularly that when she was older, she'd soon be pestered by many marriage proposals and he'd have to keep her locked up in case sketchy men tried hitting on her. Esmeralda had laughed that off mirthfully. She feared to tell Clopin however, that due to her newfound puberty, her hormones were raging through the roof. Already she was thinking about boys and one day finding true love. She knew discussing about kissing and-_god forbid_-sex would drive Clopin into a tizzy as he still considered her his 'sweet wittle baby sister'. Conversations like that were only reserved for her gypsy girlfriends.

Repressing any adult thoughts of sex for now, Esmeralda still carried on as thought she was still a sprightly, adventurous little girl. She had been dancing like a nymph as usual that day. Men had stopped their activities to gawk at her and throw gold coins into the hat at her feet as she twirled and leapt to the lively beat, her slender arms whirling above her hat, banging her tambourine. She grinned slyly at all the waggling tongues and lecherous faces, her stunning, half-lidded green orbs narrating salacious stories as she pranced gaily.

Fun never lasted that long, however.

For at that moment, the gathering crowd of men suddenly gasped and panicked when they heard the wild, echoing whinny of a riled stallion and the thundering sound of heavy, galloping hooves. They immediately disbanded and fled in different directions. The gypsy dancer had been puzzled by the happening but then understood why soon after. Mere minutes later, a hulking black beast of a stallion trotted over to her favorite dancing spot. She stood straight, rigid, holding her tambourine in front of her as some sort crude, makeshift shield. Terror had struck her at being confronted with such a frightening creature. Her fearful eyes traveled up the horse's strong limbs, wide torso, and loose, tousled mane until they locked onto his rider.

Her fear partially melted away and was replaced with a new, strange emotion. _Want. Desire. Need. Lust._

_Look at him, Look at me,_

_That boy is bad but honestly,_

_He's a wolf in disguise,_

_But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes,_

Her mouth must've been hanging wide open as her intrigued emerald eyes examined the judge riding on the spirited stallion. He had sneered scornfully as it was his trademark expression upon seeing a gypsy and had coldly reprimanded her that it was rude to stare and demanded her to close her mouth. She immediately did so and backed away cautiously. But her gaze never broke, not even for a millisecond. That afternoon had been beautifully aglow with sunlight and the judge was positioned just right that a ray of ember bathed him in an almost mesmerizing spotlight. He looked practically incandescent, his alabaster skin somewhat dazzling. The red satin sash that adorned his whimsical chaperon shimmered like a ruby as the wind blew it behind him. Esmeralda nearly believed it to possess a hypnotic charm.

She should've fled. She should've hurriedly gathered up her hat filled with coins and dash off to the Court of Miracles. However, against her better judgment, she did neither. She just continued to drink in the judge's ghastly-_yet mysteriously elegant_-beauty with her ravenous green eyes. The cold stiffness in his gaunt, monotonous features. The way his thin, dark lips drew into his tight, stern frown. The way his marble hands-_those spidery_ _fingers_-gripped the reins of the stallion tightly, showing that, indefinitely, underneath those unflattering loose folds of black velvet lied masculine strength. Esmeralda unconsciously licked her lips. She wondered what it must feel like to trail her small hand along the length of his thigh that gripped so strongly onto the stallion. _To feel those rippling muscles beneath her dainty fingers… _Then, there were his eyes.

People had thought she was either flushed with courage beyond her years or she was just plain crazy. For, she had unwittingly locked his gaze with hers. _His eyes._

One could just feel the abundant evil within them. The iciness that could not be melted. They would've scared off anyone. Despite everything, however, the dancer could not bear to tear her eyes away from those two piercing, haunting obsidian disks.

Esmeralda was sure she had felt a heated pulse. From below, between her thighs.

Clopin just had to interfere. He had been packing up after another puppet show only to notice his 'sweet wittle baby sister' seemingly engaged in a staring contest with his worst nemesis! He had stormed over, grasped her arm furiously and dragged away, stopping only to shoot the judge a cold glare. Frollo had simply narrowed his eyes at the proceedings. Esmeralda did not even comprehend Clopin's nagging reprimands; she just kept staring back, as if still in her mysterious trance. Had he been examining her as she had him? The thought of those scorching coal eyes memorizing her curves sent another heated pulse through the gypsy's body. What _was _this strange feeling? And why did she suddenly felt tense and hot down _there_?

_I asked my girlfriend if she seen you 'round before,_

_She mumbled something while we got down on the floor baby,_

_We've might have fucked, not really sure, don't quite recall,_

_But something tells me that I've seen him, yeah, before,_

The gypsy women, upon hearing of this, informed her patiently about sex and how ladies generally react to it. Esmeralda remembered her cheeks were as flushed as tomatoes when she discovered she had been aroused! Furthermore, it was infamous, snarling and tyrannical Minister of Justice that had aroused her! A man she was bred to abhor. Clopin repeatedly drilled into her brain that Frollo was a man to be despised, to be damned for all eternity. She had agreed, of course. It was plain as day that Claude Frollo could never be described as a likeable man.

He was cruel, bearing no kind thought for the gypsies' and their suffering. He was sadistic, often smirking in triumph, never disturbed in the slightest upon watching his prisoners writhe in pain while tortured or executed. He was merciless, sentencing the guilty to the most depraved punishments. Esmeralda knew she hated him; who could love such a…a…a monster?

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster,_

Why then had she felt so flushed? So _excited_ by the way he sneered hatefully at her? So enthralled by the way he had trotted towards her on his stallion, looking so domineering? That question bugged the gypsy girl throughout her adolescent years. Months passed and she would often catch glimpses of the judge riding through the alleys. During those months, in an act of teenage rebellion, she had defied Clopin's warnings and boldly tailed the judge as he rode. She discovered how intriguing, how _admirable_ he looked as the citizens of Paris, peasants, gypsies and aristocrats alike, bowed their heads in humility as he strutted by on his horse, that proud, aquiline nose high in the air. The gypsy dancer remembered sighing dreamily at the sight. She had been shocked, repulsed by such an action. It couldn't be that, out of all the young gentlemen in Paris…the judge was to be her very first teenage infatuation?

No. Impossible. Nope. Not even if a million pigs graced the skies with wings on their backs.

She recalled meeting a rather handsome gypsy boy. She fancied him, well tried to fancy him and they got into a sweet but non-committal relationship. They could've gotten more serious if she had been more open with him. She couldn't bear any physical contact as whenever he leaned in for a kiss, all she could see, could smell, could _feel_ was the judge's presence and his lips leaning in. Hence, that relationship was a loss. Still, she didn't want to admit that ever since that day, she had fallen head over heels for the judge. He was the vilest, inhuman, and unjust…yet it seemed, no matter how hard she denied it, the judge had her heart. She just wondered if, ever should he fall for her, he would cherish it, maybe even kiss it lovingly…or would he toss it to the ground cruelly before stamping on it with his foot?

She could already see his slimy smirk of triumph as he gazed down mockingly at the once pulsating life source beneath his feet. How he laughed darkly at seeing her disturbing scarlet staining his black boot. She knew that, no matter what, she couldn't trust her heart with him.

_He ate my heart,_

_(I love that girl),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(I love that girl),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell),_

Monster, she often muttered to herself about him when she finally matured into an intelligent, defiant and independent woman. Her curves had ripened deliciously, her voluminous curls thickened further into an aromatic black forest and her lips could've overshadowed the reddest of rubies. Esmeralda knew now that she could have any man on her arm. Her saucy show at the Festival of Fools certainly proved that. Of course, throughout the whole thing, she wasn't even thinking about _him_. She certainly didn't care that _he _would sitting there, surveying the happenings as _he_ usually did with _his_ disgusted, and hawk-like eyes. Nor did she get butterflies in her stomach when she remembered that.

Fine, admittedly, lying was her weakest point.

Knowing he would be there spurred her to do something foolish, something dangerous…anything to get his attention. She just had to. It was like she was a marionette and he was manipulating her with her strings. Without so much as touching her.

Thus, she did what she did. People thought she was a foolish witch. They believed her to be chronically deranged at teasing the uptight minister like that. She must've been to commit an act so ill-advised as gallivanting into the judge's lap, blatantly offering him a pseudo-lap dance, reeling him in with her patterned scarf and kissing him on the nose before slamming his hat over his eyes and leaping off. She felt so triumphant, victorious; wanting to do a little victory dance of joy at seeing him snarl before he tore the scarf from his neck.

She knew he kept the scarf as a treasured keepsake. The way he tucked it away into his sleeve, unseen by the entranced crowd. The sweet taste of success lingered on her taste buds. Oh, the gypsy girl couldn't believe this was happening.

Neither could she believe his sinful actions when they were in the cathedral.

_He licked his lips, said to me,_

_Girl, you look good enough to eat,_

_Put his arms around me,_

_Said, "Boy, now get your paws off of me," _

He brazenly snuck up behind her, restraining her with a vise-like grip on her arm. His other hand held her still. She struggled. No way was she going to give in to him. Despite this morbid addiction she held for him, she would not, _must not_, allow him anywhere near her vulnerable heart. His tall, lean, _muscled_ frame had been pressed up so hotly against her. She suppressed any stray whimpers threatening to escape her parted red lips. She was practically dangling on a precipice and what was pushing her straight into her abyss was the rock hard pressure digging into her rear end. He was growling coldly into her ear, taunting her for getting herself into this problematic situation. His hot breath breathing down her neck, he purred each word mockingly, huskily.

Those lips…those teeth…that tongue…_that voice_

She shuddered deliciously, wondering how it would feel if he decided to lick the shell of her ear, nibble on it, purr into it…maybe go lower…She felt that sudden, familiar adrenaline coursing through her. A feeling she hadn't had ever since she first saw him. The most sensitive area in her body throbbed with need at such a vision and she bit her lip savagely to calm down the sensation.

That's when she heard deep inhaling. To her surprise, the judge was…sniffing her! Or more accurately, her hair. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he turned away from her slightly to sigh in ecstasy. This caused her heart to flutter uncontrollably but she quickly suppressed it and very sternly shoved him away from her.

No! She would not fall to his feet! She refused to get her heart broken as she had believed when she was much younger. Her pride and dignity were also at stake. Moreover, how would it look to her people? How would Clopin react, knowing his beloved younger sister was sickly addicted to the Minister of Justice, their life-long foe, whom traded nothing with them but pure hatred?

Ugh, lust was irritably insistent.

_I asked my girlfriend if she'd seen you 'round before,_

_She mumbled something while we got down on the floor, baby,_

_We might've fucked, not really sure, don't quite recall,_

_But something tells me I've seen him, yeah,_

When the fires came, those fires he ignited so that he could find her, Esmeralda was beyond confused. Her confusion could very well match Frollo's own conflicted lust but no one knew that. She observed his insane fury. The uncaring, aloof way he set innocent houses aflame. The raging lunacy in his eyes. There was more than just desire to kill in those eyes however. It was just plain _desire_. The minister really wanted her. Her feelings were almost on par with his. She tossed this new bit of information about in her head. The judge did all this because he wanted her. Very badly it seemed to. It had to be if he was offering money for her capture. Inhaling deeply, she knew her choice was clear.

The city or her people didn't deserve to suffer his flaming insanity. She did. Though, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited by what she was about to do. Time to enter the mouth of the monster.

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster,_

It wasn't hard, surprisingly, to mount the heavily adorned palace so that she could scale up the wall and into the judge's bedroom window. She wore nothing but the slightest whisper of a blue cloak and peered in through the gossamer curtains. The judge was standing, rigid, tense, his fists clenched into tight balls. The light from the fire he was staring into casted a glow over his face. His expression; it caught her breathless. It was the very same expression he had shot her the first time they met. Except now, it was saddened, defeated and furious.

His eyes were narrowed into little slits. His lips were pursed tightly. He was heaving from the heavy breaths he was taking. A bead of sweat was making its way down and staining his collar. The sight was intimidating yet oh so _arousing_.

_He ate my heart,_

_(I love that girl),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(I love that girl),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell),_

Esmeralda shivered from both the thinness of the cloak that was doing a pathetic job of shielding her from the cold and from her building want. She was obligated to do this anyway. The city, her people, Quasimodo…they needed her to make things right. What was wrong with enjoying herself while she saved her friends?

The soles of her graceful feet padded across the floor. The judge barely moved. She stopped a mere few feet behind him and, bracing herself, she then piped up.

"I'm here now. You can stop the fires. Release my people and let them go in peace. Do all that…and I'll be forever yours," She whispered, the arrangements sounding like a business deal though with all the raging lust pumping through her body, it certainly didn't feel like just mere propositions. The judge slowly, torturously slowly, turned and just stared at her. Granite pupils met emerald ones. _Just like their first encounter._

Only this time, more than simple staring was done.

She observed, breathing heavily in her maddening arousal as he looked her over, admiring from every angle. He circled her, took a few strands of hair in his fingers and sniffed them, sighing blissfully. He stroked her bare shoulder. It was driving her insane. His fingers then trailed up her neck, cupped her chin and, while staring into her eyes piercingly, he melded his lips forcefully onto hers with full-throttle passion.

At that point on, Esmeralda did not give a hoot or a holler about her heart anymore. She just wanted this…this…_monster_.

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_That boy is a monster,_

Frollo couldn't care less about where to take her apparently. The bed was too far and his desk was far too cluttered. The next best location was the marble floor. Esmeralda couldn't even catch her breath to protest. They tumbled down to the floor, an animalistic erotic tangle of furious tongues and roaming limbs. The gypsy writhed shamelessly beneath him, savagely weaving her hands through his silver hair. His lips were burning hot, like that of the blacksmith's heated iron. They nearly scalded her own lips.

He reared up above her; a magnificent beast, a ferocious monster. His granite eyes, once dull and icy, now blazing with the fury that is lust. His teeth were gritted as he looked down upon her flushed face, scarlet mouth and wild tangles of raven hair. To the judge, this was certainly the most erotic vision before him. Seeing her panting underneath him, her swollen breasts heaving with each inhale as well as the thin veil of sweat on her forehead. He could not resist. He grasped each of her wrists and pressed them down hard onto the floor, pinning them both above her head. She whimpered, he was snarling above her like some wild wolf that had finally cornered the lamb. He chuckled menacingly, mounting her before adjusting himself so she could feel his throbbing erection rub against her inner thigh as he proceeded to straddle her.

This was sweet, pure lovemaking, she knew. Neither was this all that romantic, honeymoon-like falsities married couples would tell her. This was sinful, forbidden, addictive, lustful, poisonous, disgusting and devious _sex_.

_He ate my heart, he ate my heart,_

_Instead, he's the monster in my bed,_

_He ate my heart, he ate my heart,_

_Instead, he's the monster in my bed,_

He roughly spread her legs and slid his hand in between them, searching through her curls and brushing his smooth knuckles against her juicy folds. The gypsy's eyes popped open. That felt _amazing_. The judge then began prodding her sodden core with his fingers, moaning softly at the slippery walls he uncovered. Esmeralda whimpered and bucked her hips hard against his slender fingers. His hand must've been sticky and drenched when he removed it. Her wetness had oozed out so much, it was creating a bit of a puddle on the floor. He smirked at her from above. That smirk; that triumphant, smug, sickening, horrible, slap-worthy, fucking sexy smirk. She wasn't sure if she'd survive this any longer. Her cavern twitched and ached to be filled. She gazed up at him…that pleading gaze. He never denied it before.

He plunged his full, ribbed in texture length inside of her. Esmeralda's ecstatic bawls practically reverberated the palace walls.

_I wanna just dance but he took me home instead,_

_Uh oh, there's a monster in my bed,_

_We French kissed on a subway train,_

_He tore my clothes right off,_

_He ate my heart, then he ate my brain,_

_(I love that girl, wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(I love that girl),_

_He ate my heart,_

_(Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell),_

His hips banged audibly into hers as he rutted hard into her. The gypsy was a limp pool of sweat, tousled curls and sticky nectar beneath him; thirsty moans were continually ripped from her throat again and again. He sinisterly snickered, watching his hellish temptress writhe beneath him. She panted out his name in broken moans as he rubbed the whole of his length within her cavern, his thickness brushing against her clit deliciously as he did so. Their loins burned as they rubbed against each other; the friction caused due to their contrasting sizes intensified each of the sensations his thrusting hips gave. He was completely enraptured with the moment. Her breath was nearly taken away at seeing his face, once so cold, so unyielding, contort into one of bestial ecstasy. His eyes scrunched into little slits, his silver plastered against his face and his voice huffing amorous pants and his narrow hips continued to slam into hers.

"Witch," He growled down at her, the excruciating euphoria is his voice completely contradicting his insult. She confusedly stared at him but decided to follow along, digging her nails into his shoulder as she felt herself approaching the pinnacle.

"Tyrant," She breathed out huskily, dragging her nails downwards.

"Whore," He smirked, quickening his drives.

"Sadist," She whined in a high-pitched voice, her dragging nails leaving red marks.

"Harlot," He moaned out, shoving more and more of his stiffened loins inside her.

"Monster!" She screamed, the nerve endings in her slippery, hot walls snapping as she continued marring his alabaster back with her long fingernails. Her orgasm ripped through her forcefully, demolishing a dam within her that released an enormous flood of hot white cum all over his throbbing erection. It was more than too much for the judge. Growling loudly through gritted teeth, he too found sweet, sweet release and, burying his face into her aromatic black curls, pumped out volumes of his own cum, that had been pent up for over twenty, torturous years of disciplined repression. Not that he cared that he'd broken his vow…the gypsy was now his for all eternity.

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_(Could I love him?),_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_(Could I love him?),_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_(Could I love him?),_

_That boy is a monster,_

Esmeralda fell completely silent, subdued somewhat. She watched as the judge fully removed his night robe so that it served as a makeshift mattress and duvet before wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"A wise choice, gypsy," He had purred to her that night. "You have pleased me well…remember though, this is not for only one night." He chuckled darkly before drowsing next to her. Esmeralda waited until he was fully unconscious in slumber. She sat upright and just looked at him. The corners of his lips twitched with a victorious smirk. His silver hair was messy. Sweat glistened on his opalescent skin. Esmeralda sighed. She was bound to him now; his slave, his wife, his whore.

Still, no one knows her true emotions. Not even him. She couldn't bear it if he knew. For if he knew what power he held over her, he would truly, so truly rip her heart out…and feast on it cruelly.

His love had destroyed her. That was the simple truth.

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_(He ate my heart),_

_(Could I love him?),_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_(He ate my heart),_

_(Could I love him?),_

_That boy is a monster, m-m-m-monster,_

_(Could I love him?),_

_That boy is a monster_

A/N: Apparently, I love to ramble XD. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter…and as you can see I've changed the title of the story to suit the drabble. R and R please! And yes, I know…it's not my best (shrugs) It's late…I tried my hardest.


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